


a place to call home.

by cheshireanwriter



Series: alternate universes. [5]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Business AU, F/F, heiress!Sana, jihyo's the only one who can put up with nayeon, lawyer!Dahyun, nayeon would kill for dahyun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24111286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshireanwriter/pseuds/cheshireanwriter
Summary: Sana's first impression of Dahyun is her glass of champagne on her skin and her bright red lipstick on Sana's chest.
Relationships: Im Nayeon/Park Jisoo | Jihyo, Kim Dahyun/Minatozaki Sana
Series: alternate universes. [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1529135
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	a place to call home.

Sana hates these glorified business parties as much as she hated school dances in high school.

“So, who does the tyrant want you to terrorize tonight?” Momo says as she smiles brightly at anyone glancing their way.

Sana scans the room, eyes flitting from one perfectly groomed heir to another. “No one in particular.” Her gaze lingers on Krystal Jung, admiring her chic aloofness. “He hasn’t talked to me since then.”

“Since then?” Momo stops in her tracks. “You mean—Sana, that was two _months_ ago.”

“Two months and a half, actually. He refuses to see me. The nurses won’t let me in.” She can feel Momo’s disapproving glare searing into the side of her face, and she knows that the woman doesn’t believe her for a second. She sighs and turns to her. “I’m _serious_. I tried visiting and the nurses told me that he specifically ordered them not to let me in. What am I supposed to do?”

“We both know that if you really wanted to get in you could be there before anyone can even say no. He’s still your father, and—”

Sana doesn’t hear the rest of Momo’s lecture, if only because of the small impact against her chest and the trickle of cold champagne running down her arm. She’s just glad it’s not on her dress and that everyone else is too busy at the moment to witness what had happened. 

She only realizes why the impact had been so minimal when she looks down to see a head of blonde hair just below her chin, which pulls away from her after a moment with an audible gasp. The look on Momo’s face is priceless and it’s all she can do not to burst out laughing. 

“Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going, I—”

Any thoughts that might have been on her mind before dissipate the moment that the woman looks up at her because wow, she’s _gorgeous_. With looks like that, Sana wouldn't have minded if the girl dumped an entire bottle of champagne over her head.

Sana squints, noticing the way that the girl's lipstick is slightly smudged.

She’s always had sharp eyes, and it only takes her a second to put two and two together before looking down at her chest. An almost perfect imprint of a pair of bright red lips that, to no surprise, match the exact shade of the woman’s, lie just below her collarbones, stark against her skin.

Sana looks back up with a sly smile. “If you wanted to stake your claim so badly, all you had to do was ask.”

She sees Momo’s jaw drop in her peripherals but chooses to ignore it, because flirting is her most preferred way of blowing off steam, and she isn’t about to miss this chance that has clearly been gifted by the gods.

The girl's jaw doesn’t drop, but Sana does get to watch the fascinating way that redness spreads across her cheeks and into the tips of her ears when her eyes finally dart down to the mark she’d left behind.

“Oh god,” she says again, her hands fluttering nervously in the air. “I can’t believe I did that.”

The woman is so cute that Sana has to physically resist the urge to squish her like one of her plushies at home. She chooses another suave pick up line out of her infinite arsenal to use on her, but can’t help but soften at the way that the woman seems to be unable to look her in the eyes for more than a second.

She decides to smile instead, placing a hand on the woman’s arm. “Hey, it’s fine, really. No harm done. And I wasn’t exactly looking where I was going, either, so I’d say we're even.”

“It’s probably more her fault than yours,” Momo chimes in. “She has the coordination of a toddler.”

Sana shoots her a glare, but Momo only shrugs with a smirk. She’d get her back later.

“Are you sure? Let me at least pay for the cleaners.”

There’s no way in hell that Sana’s going to let this woman pay for anything, but her words give her an idea instead. “If you really want to pay me back, how about a name, instead?”

Sana only needs to hear the exasperated sigh from Momo to know that the older woman is walking away, and she looks over to see her slipping past a server, shaking her head without so much as a single glance back at her.

“My name?” She returns her attention to the woman who’s visibly flustered, eyes wide. “Oh, right, my name. I’m—”

“Kim Dahyun! How dare you keep me waiting for so long!”

Sana turns the moment that Dahyun does, catching sight of a woman in red strutting through the crowd that miraculously parts for her, although not without a chorus of whispers trailing in her wake. She stops in front of them, piercing eyes aimed at Dahyun who laughs nervously. 

It doesn’t take Sana long to recognize this woman. Im Nayeon. She’s the soon-to-be CEO of I.M. Entertainment, the biggest media company in all of Korea. She has a loud sort of charisma that dominates the space around her and an aura that attracts attention. It’s fitting for an entertainment company’s future leader. The expectations are high and everyone knows she’ll meet them.

“Well? Care to explain?” the woman says, crossing her arms.

“I—I was heading over to you, but I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I spilled my drink all over, uhm…” Dahyun trails off, whipping around to look at Sana with something frantic in her eyes.

“Sana,” she fills in, flashing a brief smile.

Im Nayeon doesn’t so much as spare her a glance. “Right. I don’t care,” she says, grabbing onto Dahyun’s arm and dragging her away. “Hurry up, Jihyo’s been stalling that insufferable _prick_ Jaewon for ten minutes now. She’s going to murder him at the rate he’s going.”

Dahyun looks back at her several times as she gets hauled away and Sana simply gives her a small wave, watching as the two women disappear up the stairs. Momo returns just then with three finger sandwiches in her hands and one between her teeth, eyes practically sparkling with delight at her discovery.

Sana chooses to ignore it, too used to the girl’s antics to be surprised anymore. She taps her chin thoughtfully instead, tilting her head. “Hey, does the name Kim Dahyun ring a bell?”

“Yeah,” Momo says, her voice muffled. “You should know. She’s the heiress of Kim & Associates. Why?”

Sana chokes on air, turning on the older girl who already has another sandwich halfway in her mouth. “Kim & Associates? _She’s_ the heiress of Kim & Associates?”

Momo blinks at her, looking confused, her chewing slowing to a stop before a light of understanding blinks into life in her eyes. “No. No way. That tiny little cotton ball was Kim Dahyun?”

“Well, she said that was her name. What’s the probability of there being more than one Kim Dahyun at this event?”

Sana can’t help the way she glances back at the stairs that Dahyun had walked up just minutes ago. She’ll make sure this isn’t the last time she sees her.

“Well, unless that girl has a different personality in the office…she’s going to get ripped apart by those cutthroat lawyers,” Momo says, popping another sandwich into her mouth.

Sana snatches the last sandwich before Momo can devour it and nods.

~

It’s towards the end of the night that Sana finally runs into her again.

She walks into the bathroom to see Dahyun standing at the sink, an adorably concentrated expression on her face as she washes her hands. It’s hard to believe that this girl is the heir to the biggest law firm in Korea. 

She puts on her most mischievous smile and makes herself known. “Well, if this isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.”

Dahyun startles so violently that she sends water flying through the air, dousing the once spotless mirror. Her eyes widen in a cartoonish way as she spins to face her and Sana doesn’t have the self control to bite back her laughter.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I’d scare you that badly,” she manages to say through her laughter, pulling out a couple of napkins from the dispenser and handing it over to the woman. “My pick up lines usually go much smoother than that.”

“Pick up lines?”

Sana frowns, leaning against the counter. “Wow, I must really be losing my touch.”

“No, wait. That isn’t what I—”

“—I know, I know,” Sana says, giggling. “I’m just messing around. I thought lawyers were good at sarcasm.”

Dahyun shrugs almost imperceptibly. “I’ve never been good at picking up on it.”

Sana knows that Dahyun is one of the youngest people in Korea to have passed the bar exam, but her skills in court have never been tested, which has become a point of controversy as of late. Sana knows this and she does what any business person does best—aim for the weak point.

“So you are a lawyer.”

Sana watches the way that Dahyun’s posture stiffens, a flash of something icy surfacing in her expression. She recognizes it immediately. It’s the same coldness that she sees in her own press photos, the impenetrable wall that she builds for the cutthroat nature of the business world.

Dahyun’s face gives away nothing. “That would depend on what your definition of a lawyer is.”

Sana approves of the woman’s calm and cool approach to her subtle challenge. So this gorgeous ball of fluff had a backbone afterall. 

“Well,” she muses, tapping a finger on her chin. “The way I see it, a business person should be able to play with people and soldiers should be able to play with guns. Lawyers…well, you should be able to play with the law. Preferably past the first amendment. I have a feeling that you know it to at least the eighth.”

This time, Dahyun seems to catch the teasing lilt in her voice, the brief iciness thawing away and what Sana recognizes to be relief settling along her shoulders. Regardless of backbone, it’s clear that the woman doesn’t enjoy confrontation.

“Eight is pushing it. I’m afraid I only know up to the seventh.”

Sana can’t help the giggle that escapes her lips. “Well, I suppose I could let that pass. Just for you.”

The blush that adorns the small woman’s cheeks and her quickly averted gaze is enough to have her wrestling between the desire to wrap her into a hug and to pin her up against the nearest wall. She snaps out of it when a woman she vaguely recognizes as one of the heiresses to the Jung & Associates’ throne enters the restroom.

“Well, I think we’ve loitered in here long enough,” Sana says, motioning towards the door. “Shall we head out?”

Dahyun laughs quietly and nods. Sana opens the door for her, flourishing a bow with what she knows is a charming smile. It doesn’t fail to make the small woman flustered and she takes it as a win.

Unfortunately, Dahyun excuses herself not a second later after she receives a text message. She has a genuinely apologetic smile on and Sana can’t do anything but nod cordially and bid her farewell. She sighs as she watches the woman walk briskly down the hall and disappear around a corner.

It’s only then that she realizes that she’d never managed to get the woman’s number and she all but readies herself to sprint down the hall when a voice stops her in her tracks.

“You’re not doing that.”

Sana turns to see none other than Im Nayeon leaning against the wall, propped up on one shoulder with a glass of red wine between almost frighteningly long fingers. 

She manages to collect herself enough to respond. "Excuse me?"

“Dahyun,” she says, her voice flippant. She smiles, though it's far too sharp to be anything comforting. “You’re interested.”

Sana doesn’t see a reason to hide her attraction for the pretty, petite woman with the smile of a thousand suns. “Can you blame me?”

Nayeon laughs. “Of course not. Smart, successful, and gorgeous with a cute personality,” she says, running her fingers through her hair. “I get it. Really, I do. And usually, I’d just let her deal with it on her own, but you,” she says, pushing off of the wall and pointing at her. “You, I’m not letting anywhere near her.”

Sana frowns. “Why me?”

The woman’s eyes turn dark, and that's all it takes for Sana to know what’s coming.

“Because your reputation precedes you—Minatozaki.”

Sana tenses, feeling the way her nails dig into the softness of her palms. Of course. Why wouldn’t her name follow her even here? She feels a bitter wave swell somewhere between her chest and her stomach, black and ugly. Her mask falls into place, and she can tell that it fits too perfectly because the look in the other woman’s face shifts into something far less demeaning. 

“So you know who I am.” She hates when her voice sounds like this. This voice sounds too much like her father’s.

Nayeon shifts beneath her stare, though she does an admittedly good job at hiding it. “How could I not?” she says. She looks her up and down, and in any other circumstance, Sana would have preened, but this— this feels dirty. “Your name is on every tongue in this building.”

“Is that so?” Sana says, her voice low. “Then you know what I’m capable of. I’d watch your tone, Ms. Im Nayeon.”

“Don’t look down on me, Minatozaki.” Nayeon quite literally bristles. “I’m capable of many things, too.”

Sana would never really hurt her, despite what she says. She’s never wanted to hurt anyone, especially not after years of watching her father tear down every man and woman who so much as breathed in his direction. 

Watching the pain in so many people's faces, especially at a young age, does something to you, and Sana had vowed to herself to never become anything like the one person who should have been her role model.

Well, then again, her father had been her role model up until the moment she first heard a woman she’d never met before look at her and hiss, _Minatozaki_ , as if it were a profanity. It hadn’t taken too long after that for her to come to terms with the fact that it was. 

The tension is momentarily broken by a cool voice behind her. “Having fun without me, Satang?”

Sana feels an arm wrap around her shoulders and inhales the familiar scent of jasmine in the air. She relaxes into the one-armed hug, her best friend squeezing her against her side in response. She watches the way that Nayeon’s expression shifts yet again, though what exactly she’s feeling isn’t quite readable. 

“You’re Hirai Momo.”

“The one and only,” she replies easily, and Sana doesn’t have to look to know that she has her deceptively ditzy smile on. “And you’re Im Nayeon.”

Momo tends to have a vague, clouded look in her eyes, one that causes people to immediately assume that she’s nothing but an airheaded, pretty face for the company. 

Sana’s sure that anyone else would have been indignant about having such a derogatory image, but Momo simply uses the false impression to her advantage, striking out competitors who make the dangerous mistake of disregarding her so quickly that they don’t realize what’s hit them until it’s far too late.

To put it simply, Momo is dangerous in ways that no one else can be.

Nayeon dips her head in affirmation, though her eyes never leave the two of them. “Minatozaki and Hirai in one building. What a small world,” she sneers. “Is Myoui here, too?”

“Mina has other business to attend to. She won’t be here today.” Sana glances over at Momo and catches the glint of mischief in her eyes. “I’m surprised Yoo Jeongyeon isn’t here with you.”

The way that Nayeon stiffens doesn’t bypass her and Sana realizes that Momo knows something that she doesn’t. “Oh, she is.” Nayeon’s voice turns icy. “But it’s not my problem.”

“Sure doesn’t seem that way,” Sana says.

Nayeon’s eyes flash dangerously. “Well it sure doesn’t seem like it’s your business, does it, Minato—” 

Nayeon cuts herself off with an undignified yelp, and another woman appears from behind her. This woman has big, open eyes and a soft, warm look about her, an almost motherly one if it hadn’t been for the fact that she looks no older than them. 

Something about this woman immediately makes the sharp retort that Sana had ready to let fly slide back down her throat. The woman is wearing a midnight blue dress that clashes against Nayeon’s vibrant red and Sana can’t help but think that their respective colors suit them. 

When the woman glances up at her, a look of recognition flashes in her eyes, her gaze momentarily flicking towards Momo and back again. The look then gentles to an apologetic one. 

“I’m sorry about her, please don’t take anything she says to heart,” she says. Even her voice is pleasant to listen to, unlike Nayeon’s grating tone. “My name is Park Jihyo. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Minatozaki Sana. The pleasure is mine.”

She hears Nayeon scoff but chooses to ignore her.

“Hirai Momo. And no harm done, we were just having a bit of banter, that’s all.”

“Right. Banter,” Nayeon says through gritted teeth.

Sana doesn’t miss the way that the tension in her shoulders slackens at Jihyo’s touch despite her blatant hostility towards them, and she can’t help the small smile that touches her lips. So that’s the kind of relationship they have. She has to admit that they suit each other well.

“Our ride is here so we’ll have to get going. It was nice meeting you,” Jihyo says with a smile. 

Sana dips her head politely. “Likewise.”

Nayeon is dragged after the woman like a disobedient puppy, though it doesn’t stop her from shooting her and Momo a final glare before they disappear around the corner. 

“You always get into trouble one way or another, don't you, Satang.”

Sana half-heartedly jabs the woman in the stomach, though Momo easily intercepts it and gently wraps her fingers around her wrist instead. She sighs.

“It’s kind of hard not to when your name makes half the world’s population want to commit murder.”

Momo’s grip tightens. “You’re not your father, Sana. What he’s done isn’t your fault.”

Sana smiles briefly, nudging Momo towards the elevators in lieu of steering away from the conversation. The older woman easily moves with her, because despite having never been anything more than friends, they’re tuned to each other’s body language, and even the slightest movement tells more than words can.

“Yeah, I know,” she says as the doors slide open. “But that’s not what they think.”


End file.
